I'll Follow You Into The Dark
by Another Icarus
Summary: They had made a contingency plan just in case something like this happened. They had planned ahead. Dick still couldn't get past the lump forming in his throat. Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death Dick/Jason


Dick no longer remembered the month. Was it June or July? The heat hung heavy in the air, and he wiped sweat from his brow with a sigh. Maybe August - that would mean Jason's birthday was approaching, wouldn't it? He snorted. What sort of birthday was that? He'd have to go out t o the store, pick up some dehydrated eggs and cake mix. See what he could do with the non-spoiled food. Maybe he could find Jason a new gun - what had always been a joke of a present suddenly seemed like the best presented option.

And then he looked down., and guilt filled him. Fear would, too, if he had not long ago ran out of that. He would still get scared, though, if he allowed himself to be. The bleeding wouldn't stop - it didn't seem likely that it would until he died. Which _ really_ was sooner than he ever would have wanted. He sighed, slumped, and glanced at one of the boarded up windows. Sun filtered through the planked up glass, dusty and orange - nearly sundown. Jason would be back soon. He didn't want to think about that.

It had been nine months - give or take, given the lack of calendars.

Nine months since the first sick people stumbled into an emergency room down in south Gotham. Nine months since the reports, the emergency broadcasts - the first deaths. Nine months since all the mindless looting and violence and fear had been redirected to survival and not greed. Dick wasn't really sure where they were living now - they'd gone west after Bruce had died, after Tim had left one morning and was never seen again. West, and west until they'd found a small town in the middle of nowhere, with a mostly untouched Wal-mart and less of the creatures wandering around. They'd found a house that would be easy to defend, piled in supplies , boarded up the windows and put a deadbolt and piece of wood clear across the door to block it up.

Eight months since the first kiss, desperate and hungry and pleading - the first argument that almost made Jason leave. They'd stuck it out, though. Tried to soothe Damian who, despite all his efforts and training, was still a scared kid, deep down. They had made promises to one another that they knew they couldn't keep, they knew wouldn't matter with time. They'd seen, with Bruce, or Tim, that things could change in the matter of moments, but they still made promises. Somehow, it was so much easier with someone there watching out for him, someone to share a bed with, to kiss and sometimes joke about what they would do when the world was back to normal.

The talks only became more urgent, desperate and lost when Damian had been bit, had asked Dick to take him from the house and shoot him in the head to keep him from being a danger. A monster. Jason had gone with them, had helped Dick dig a grave when the tears overwhelmed him and he couldn't find the strength the dig further. He'd held Dick while he cried out the loss of the last remaining family between them.

They'd built a little wooden grave, and Dick had left a flower on the dirt.

He'd escaped into sleeping for a while – maybe a week. Dreams were so much more tempting when not even nightmares could compare to the waking truths. He'd sometimes roll over to see Jason watching him in concern, and he'd tell him the dreams – especially the ones that carried a note of hopefulness, of the world fixing itself.

Arguments often centered around that - Jason would get tired, _so_ tired of Dick's endless optimism, that somehow, the world would someday be back to normal.

"So why are we still living if the world's over , Jay?" He'd demand right back, and Jason would fall silent. "Just tell me what the hell we're fighting for out there if it's all fucked to begin with."

"You want to just give up?"

"No, of course not, I-"

"Then shut the fuck up, Dick." The venom, normally, when these arguments happened, was enough to make them separate their cots, curl up away from each other for a night. Come morning, they'd be back together, not looking back, not talking about it. They'd hold each other, pressed into each other as if they wanted to become some chimera of Jason-Dick. They'd kiss into each other, hold each other like they were about to vanish if released.

Sometimes it was nothing more than sex. Sometimes, it was something so much closer to what Dick would consider making love, if he didn't think that turn of phrase was ridiculous , Gentle, tender. They never said the word, though. Dick almost made the mistake once, and Jason launched into an emphatic, loud ramble about how they needed to break back into the Wal-Mart, replenish their supply of bullets.

Six months ago, Jason had had a near miss. His stupid, weathered and beaten leather jacket had been the only reason he hadn't been bit, had his shoulder torn off. Dick had landed one good shot into the offender - zombies, Jason called them with a salacious grin, and Dick didn't know what to think about something coming straight out of a George A Romero Halloween special. - and dragged Jason, shell shocked and wide-eyed into their safe-house.

He had never felt such palatable relief as he did when he yanked Jason's jacket off and seen that it was torn up, yeah, but Jason's skin was untouched. He'd flung his arms around Jason's neck, and honestly bawled into his shoulder.

"I can't lose you too, Jay," he'd said with a shake of his head. "I can't be left alone in this fucking world, don't _do_ that again!" And relief had turned into blind, panicked anger, slamming his fist weakly against Jason's chest.

Jason had shaken himself out of his shock, and curled arms carefully around him. Let Dick rant out what he needed to be said and then gathered him up for one long, slow kiss. "Well, I can't lose you either, got it? I won't die if you won't. " He'd grinned at Dick's quick, fervent agreement, and kissed him again.

Dick had wanted to vanish in to the kiss.

The next day, after that, they'd sat down and talked, loathe as Dick was to consider it, about the possibility of getting bit. The ones that crawled - there was no way to always protect their legs, their necks, their heads. None, not without sacrificing speed and evasion. Dick had taken a good amount of time to even be willing to listen to Jason talk.

"We need a contingency plan, Dickie. Ol' man Bats would be ashamed of us-"

"Well, he's not here, is here?" He snapped back.

"Dick, listen to me. We need to figure out what the hell happens if one of us gets bit." It was so rare, so odd for Jason to be quiet and patient, laying a hand on Dick's and squeezing.

"Well, you'll keep on fighting if I get bit." He'd said quickly, not looking at Jason. The mere implication turned his stomach.

"Would you do that if I got bit?" Silence. "Grayson, would _you_ be _able_ to keep going if I got bit? Blow my brains out and then keep on keeping on?" The silence dragged on, and Jason had gritted his teeth. "Dammit, Dick, we came real close to it yesterday, you damn well have a fucking answer for me!"

"I couldn't do it. None of it." Dick shook his head, looking down. "I've already had to shoot Damian. Don't- don't say it like you'd have me do it too. I'm no executioner."

"No, you just care too damn much." He's frowned. "How about this? You die, and I die? We fight the good fight until –we– can't anymore, and we go out with a bang. Together." Silence once more met him, and he gave a tired sigh," Dick, I'm just as tired of this fucking world as you are. I don't want to have to keep on going if the one thing keeping me going's gone, got it?"

That had been as good as the words to him, as good as an outright declaration. He'd lifted his head, looked at him, and kissed him. A chaste, brief thing that still stole their breath from their lungs with the gravity of the situation.

"Fine. We'll go out with a bang, together."

Five months ago - or was it four? the months blended together, Dick had said more than once that they needed to start a calendar, but it was hard to start when he'd so long ago lost track of when what day it was- they'd corralled a great group of the things together, tried out the bomb for the first time. It had been effective, to say the least. Dick had burned the memory of Jason's grin from that success into his mind, and Jason burned it into Dick's skin with kisses and bites and grips tight enough to bruise. Dick had faced their inevitable future that day, and had forced himself to look elsewhere.

A little over two months ago, he'd proposed with two plain silver chain necklaces - heavy set things meant for men even back when jewelry meant a damn thing. He'd broken out some of the wine they hadn't drank yet, cooked up something as best he could - the stuff was all starting to taste the same, like they were eating the cans instead of the food. He'd gotten down on one knee, and not even the low groaning outside from a wanderer could shake his focus. "Jason, will you marry me?"

The younger man had been surprised, had rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, let's just run down to city hall, first light. Make it official."

Then he'd taken one of the chains, put it around Dick's neck, kissed him like there was nothing in the world but him. "What are you waiting for?" He grinned, and let Dick put the other one around his neck.

They'd knocked their heads together, dinner forgotten in favor of undoing clothes with practiced, calloused hands. They fell into bed and then after half a night of making love (damn if that still didn't sound ridiculous, but it was every bit the truth), had decided that this was cause for celebration, was cause of for them to move to a new house, actually make it a home instead of a safe haven that reeked of rotting flesh. The next day was spent carefully making a decision in the neighborhood, moving their few belongings, their supplies and the wires to their contingency plan into a new home, one with pleasantly stocked cabinets and a fairly nice master bedroom set.

They'd stayed there since, keeping locked up when it wasn't necessary to go out and about. The necklaces, or at least, Dick's, became a constant, heavy reminder that he wasn't alone in this.

The door to their house – their home, now – opened and shut, Jason leaning with a sigh against it while he loaded the shot gun again, shells falling to the floor. "Did you find 'em?" Dick started, and tried not to sound desperate, sad, scared. He rose to his feet and smiled at his lover.

"Nah, they're long gone. Good riddance, I say," Jason mumbled, setting the gun near the door and lowering the stack of rebar they used to lock the door in place. He looked up, and smiled at Dick. "You have any luck today?"

Dick was instantly uncomfortable - he had never before wanted so dearly to just turn and run. He needed to get out, to grab a pistol and do the deed on his own and just hope that Jason would carry on. He was always the stronger of them, he would last just fine. That was, at least, what Dick assured of himself.

He wanted to cry, and the wound - bite, his mind reminded him with a scornful feel - throbbed as it to remind him. Instead, he smiled and nodded and leaned in, kissing Jason chastely. "Grabbed some canned pears. I can't believe we overlooked em, but they're in the pantry, now. I-" Fishing rods in the hall closet. He'd grabbed them, thinking how nice some fresh fish with dinner would be and how fun fishing with Jason could be. There was a lake not too far. It didn't matter now. He could only think of the red and green wiring behind the fishing rods, that lined the walls, and he had to brace himself from breaking down completely. "I grabbed some fishing shit. I was thinking how we could teach ourselves, and doesn't that sound fun and," he kept on just rambling, and the words ceased to make sense, just a string of words that might have been comforting had they been in a collage and not passing his lips in a panicked jumble.

"Dickie, what's wrong?" Jason, damn him and his attention, noticed immediately, and gripped Dick's arm, steadying him. "Dick, everything went okay today, right?" He furrowed is brows, eyes moving frantically for some hint of what was wrong. "Right?" It wouldn't be hard to just pass it off as him getting emotional - it happened, sometimes, to them both. Suddenly they'd remember something from before, and they'd feel lost.

Dick had just been about to say something to that effect when Jason slid his hand down Dick's arm to take his own hand, and froze when he came into contact with the bloody bandages. He didn't look down at it though, to his credit, and just kept watching Dick's face, even while Dick's resolve to not cry further crumbled. "You sliced your arm while shopping?" The question was desperate, the plea clear - please don't say that it's not a bite.

"I- oh no, Jason, it's-" was as far as his voice could get before cracking and breaking their eye contact, looking down between them. "I got bit." He murmured loathingly.

"You - oh, _fuck_, Dick." It was whispered, strained, and Dick didn't want to see the panic forming in his eyes. "How long?"

He shrugged slightly, glanced to the boarded up window facing west. There was still a hint of light out, but it was rapidly failing. "Mid-day? I came back here after it happened." He swallowed, hard, and let Jason lace their hands together. "I cleaned up the house. Put away the stuff I grabbed at Wal-Mart. I- I can just go, Jason. Like Timmy did, remember that? Just walk off and you can-"

"No!" The reaction was immediate."Hell fucking no, Dick. Don't you fucking -" Jason scowled at him, and dragged him to the chair, seating him again. "We live together, we die together. Remember? Besides-" He knelt by the side of the chair, touching Dick's cheek, his face, followed by lightly running his hand across the chain, fingering the thick links. He then turned his attention to the bite, unwrapping Dick's messy attempt to stem the bleeding, and hissed. Dick's stomach turned and he looked away - the bone was visible, white against blood red.

"We- hell, you don't have to die! We don't have to die, we can just-" Jason was struggling for words, and Dick's heart joined his stomach in aching. Jason was never one to be at a loss for words, to struggle and stumble and sound like he was moments from crying. Never, and he felt a wave of loathing that he was doing this to him.

"It's been too long. I considered it, doing what we saw that old man had done, chop it off and cauterize it but-" he took a deep, shuddering breath and sighed. "I knew I'd just die from blood-loss if I did it without you. And it's too late now that you're back and 'sides - it's my right hand. I'd be screwed, it'd just be prolonging it. Give me a week, at most before I got bit again." A cough wracked his chest, making him shudder. "S'too late now, though."

"Don't fucking say that, Dick!" Jason slammed a curled fist against the arm of the chair. "It's not too damn late, it can't be, I-"

"Jason, it's okay." Dick cut him off, touching his hand to Jason's cheek. "I've made my peace with it," He said, and even if that was a lie, he was going to do everything he could to try and calm Jason down. "If you want to keep going, that's fine. I'll just leave, I promise."

"You _promise_ to leave? The fuck, Dick!" Jason climbed to his feet, practically falling into the chair on top of him in his haste to crash their lips together, press a firm, desperate kiss to his still lips. His hands grappled to grip his shoulders, as if Dick would find some way to escape otherwise. "You die, I die, dammit. We _agreed_ on that. Not letting you just walk outta my life." He said fiercely, and Dick nodded, wishing he could will the tears out of Jason's eyes."You got that, Grayson? You think we can't save you, then we go out with a bang, just like we said we would."

Dick smiled at that, at least, and nodded. "Okay. Okay, I'll - we can do that, if you're sure."

"Damn right I'm sure. You're all I've had for the past nine months. You're everything I've got, like hell am I putting a gun to your head."

"A bomb's so much better." Dick laughed, and gently pushed Jason up. "C'mon, we should take as many of the bastards out with us if we're doing to do this. We can draw them closer if we go up on the roof and attract 'em." He smiled tiredly, and stood as well.

"Lead the way, babe," Jason motioned for the stairs, before hesitating and dragging Dick closer for a long, slow kiss that made Dick ache and feel weak. "Wait a second." He murmured, closing his eyes in thought. "Midday. Sundown's like, what, six hours later. Everyone we've seen takes at least a day to turn."

"Jason-"

"I'm not asking for you to sit around and lose it. I wouldn't do that to you. Couldn't bear watching the br-" He cringed, and corrected himself. "I couldn't watch Damian go through that, like hell I'll watch you." He touched Dick's necklace again, openly soft and sentimental like he never really allowed himself to be. "Just, one more time, you know? May as well grab a time for the road?" He lifted his eyes with a small smile, watching Dick, and Dick felt laughter, hysterical, light laughter bubble up in response. _Oh_.

"Makes enough sense. Sure, the hell not?" He grinned, leaning forward and kissing him again, winding his arms around Jason's neck, and pressing close. If there was one wish he could have right at that moment, it would be to disappear into his arms.

He yelped when Jason ducked, catching an arm at his back, the other at his knees, scooping him into his arms and carrying him up the stairs despite all Dick's laughing protests. He was tossed onto the bed lightly, and bounced on the well-worn mattress, watching as Jason ducked into the bathroom and returned with some gauze for the bite. He knelt before him, wrapping the bite carefully, before laying kisses up Dick's arm like there was nothing wrong with the world, like they weren't just a few hours away from blowing themselves up.

He didn't seem in any way hurried, and Dick couldn't find reason or heart to hurry him along. He let Jason lead himself up to his face, and gather his face into kisses that pushed them both back onto the bed. They laughed softly, some joke apparent that they could give no real words to. It didn't take long at all for intent to flavor Jason's kisses, though, righting himself on the bed to sit over Dick, thorough and heavy, hands wandering and memorizing as if he'd never really done so before. He'd always been thorough - when facing death daily, there was no reason to not be, to appreciate everything about it, but this was carving every bit of Dick's body, calloused and worn from the months of survival as it was, placing it into some deep recess of his mind to be stored for as long as he still drew breath.

Dick breathlessly watched him, hands gently running over Jason's shoulders, touching his face, drawing him back for kisses when they'd been parted for far too long. Jason never allowed himself to be distracted from his mission for long, though, and always pulled away to continue slowly undressing Dick, making every moment last.

When it came time, Dick enjoyed his own chance, laying open mouthed kisses against every inch of bared skin he won from Jason's turtleneck, from his worn dark jeans. Jason allowed it every bit that Dick had, and finally gathered Dick into his arms, rolling them so Dick was on his back, legs wrapping around Jason's waist, dragging him impossibly close. They kissed, they rocked together and Jason took great lengths to get Dick ready, their mouths never far from one another, exchanging kisses for every word of the near novels they still had left to say to one another.

Dick arched into Jason's hands, his touch gentle and warm and reassuring. He moaned softly, the first sound of many to fill and echo into the room, until they were both sated and sweaty and panting, tangled up together in the sheets that had been displaced by them. Jason moved to lay at his side, hands wrapped loosely at Dick's waist, their legs tangled up and his mouth at Dick's ear. "That was-"

Dick nodded, a little too quickly, and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes. "Yeah. It was." He murmured from against his hand, voice thick but so determined to not cry. Jason was depending on him to not cry, he felt, and he couldn't simply let him down so close to the end. He searched out Jason's hand and laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. "I'm glad we had this chance," he murmured.

Jason nodded and nuzzled his neck. "Wish there was some power left in the grid. What I wouldn't do for some music." He chuckled, a dry, raspy sound, like he couldn't believe what he was saying. Dick turned his head to look at him. "Wish I could take you dancing. Just, you know, once. I bet you liked dancing, huh?" He scoffed. "Before, I mean, when I hated your guts for being the golden boy, when I couldn't have cared less what you liked to do."

"Jason, don't you start talking about that shit now," Dick demanded and turned onto his side to face him, withdrawing his hand to lay it on Jason's bared chest, fingertips brushing the silver chain against his collarbone. "I'd love to dance with you." He smiled gently and sat up. "Let's just get dressed first. Want to be ready, you know?" He is smile faded a little, and he worried a hole in the comforter. "We'll go up to the roof with our rifles? Get the attention of as many as we can before sunrise? Then come down for the trigger?" He looked at Jason, who had drawn away and stood, pulling on his jeans.

"Yeah. That's the plan, anyway." He nodded, buttoning up and going over while Dick tugged on his own jeans, cringing at how difficult it suddenly was to control his hand. The disease, he knew. It was setting in, and that was probably the most terrifying revelation he'd ever had. Some of the fear must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew, Jason - fully dressed suddenly, and Dick was always appreciative of how he could do that, move as fast and quietly as he did - was pulling the button-up shirt onto Dick, buttoning it up for him and pressing a light kiss to his forehead.

Uncertainly, they drew together and clasped hands together, Jason's other hand on Dick's waist, Dick's responsive hand on Jason's shoulder. He laid his head on his hand, at Jason's shoulder, just to be as close as possible, and they swayed, bare feet rustling against carpet that had probably gone out of style years ago. It was soft, though, and Dick was amazed at how he could appreciate that. He smiled slightly, and sighed. "I wish we could've done this before." He murmured.

"What was that about not starting this shit now?" Jason replied, a smile in his voice, a squeeze given to Dick's waist.

"Sorry. I just- it's all stole away, just like this. Worst part is we never would have done this if the world _hadn't_ gone to shit." Was this one of the steps to accepting death? Anger, right? He'd skipped some steps, somewhere. "I- God, Jay, I love you."

"I know," Jason soothed gently, and Dick envied his sudden calm.

"I'm glad I'm with you for this. I- there's noone I would rather have spent these last months with." He drew away, looking up at him. Jason smiled and nodded and kissed him, a slow, lingering kiss. "I love you, and I'd say it so damn much if I could just-"

"I know," Jason repeated, and released him. "Go get a blanket from that other room. Grab the rifles from downstairs. I'm gonna see about something." He rubbed his arm, and stepped away. "Meet you up on the roof, okay?"

Dick nodded, and hurried out of the room to gather the items in question, head ducked down to try and keep from panicking. He folded the blanket nicely, went down, grabbed their best rifles and another box of ammo. He took a deep breath, pausing at the base of the stairs where the real owners of the house had hung a mirror, and stared at his reflection. It wouldn't matter in an hour, maybe two. He looked tired, sad, scared, but none of that was news to him.

He couldn't fathom how this would feel without Jason at his side to help him through this, give him some courage. Though, he hardly thought he'd have wired a giant bomb through his safe house in case of infection if it hadn't been for Jason. That was so very typical of him. Dick scoffed out a shaking laugh, and headed up.

The roof was cool - not very much, the heat still oppressive even at night, but enough that gooseflesh rose in bumps along his arms. Jason was already at the point of the roof, pacing carefully, watching as the creatures ambled aimlessly around, down below. "What were you checking into?" He ventured the question as he moved up from the side of the roof where they had both climbed up from a window sill, and set down the blanket to be gathered into one more kiss from Jason. He shook his head with a tired smile.

"Doesn't matter, I thought better of it."

"Thought better of _what_, Jason? I hardly think this is a time for secrets." Dick attempted, just as tired.

"Sleeping pills. For you. Figured this would be easier for you if you were asleep.-"

"No, I want-"

And that's why I gave up looking for them. We'll both be awake for this. The big bit of the bomb's right in the attic above the room - it's not like we'll survive." He snorted derisively. "Never thought I'd be doing this."

"You can still - we don't have to do this, Jason." He said carefully.

"No, we do." He shook his head and sat, opening his arm for Dick to sit beside him. He did, pressing close beside him. "We're in this together, you and me, been through this enough today."

Dick nodded, and draped the blanket around them, before handing Jason his rifle. "Just decided to give you one last chance to change your mind." He gave a tired smile. "Thank you for thinking of the sleeping pills. I appreciate the thought."

Jason nodded and loaded the gun quickly. He shot, not bothering to aim. It certainly drew attention - they watched as the things ambled closer, automatically. Dick followed after, drawing more of them to the house. They gathered shortly, and the smell of rotted flesh drifted up to them on the sounds of groans and choking on their own blood.

"They're downright pathetic." Jason muttered and fired off another shot. "Disgusting."

Dick nodded agreement, and then fell silent, firing their rifles for what seemed like ages, until they'd amassed a fair amount of creatures below. Dick took a deep breath and crawled from beneath the blanket, going to the side of the roof and looking down. The mob reached up as if they could snatch him down. He made a face. "Come on, we've got everything in the area. Let's go back inside," he called back to his - his everything. They hadn't had the supplies to make the trigger long enough to take it onto the roof - not that they'd thought that they'd do it up there from the start, anyway.

Jason nodded and stood, joining him at the edge. Carefully, they both clambered back into the master bedroom, where Dick stood in the center of the floor, looking around as if he needed something to remember. He swallowed heavily and watched as Jason brought over the trigger. They stepped in close, and Dick curled his hand over Jason's, his thumb right below Jason's, ready to press it when Jason gave the nod. Jason's other hand wrapped around Dick, pulling him flush against him. Dick did his best to ignore the cacophony of noise outside. He swallowed hard and looked up at Jason. Jason looked right back at him, and licked his lips, finally showing some small sign of nervousness.

"I love you too, Dickie-bird. Have as long as I can remember," he confessed, quickly, lowly, and smiled weakly.

Dick smiled back, and leaned up to kiss him. "I know. I love you too, Jason. Thank you."

Jason tapped out the count to three against the small of Dick's back, and they pressed down at the same time.

The bomb went off.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Originally written as an incentive for my friend to get to studying, this kind of got out of hand and wound up being something I spent all day on. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it! Please, be kind and leave a review, I'd love to be told what you thought.


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